


What Lily Wouldn't Do

by EffingEden



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dreams, F/M, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-27
Updated: 2010-11-27
Packaged: 2017-10-13 10:13:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/136120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EffingEden/pseuds/EffingEden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius knows Lily would never...</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Lily Wouldn't Do

**Author's Note:**

> Comment_fic prompt, 'Harry Potter; Sirius/Lily; Mama, you been on my mind'

Perfect, every part of her, so perfect. So beautiful. So right. He had never wanted to touch, taste, fuck anyone like he craved her – and that need was only made all the more powerful by James’ claim on her.

His best friend’s wife. His best friend’s _pregnant_ wife.

And yet, he wanted her. Just once. One night. One fuck and he would stop wanting to smell her hair whenever he saw her sitting down. He would stop wanting to kiss the curve of her neck whenever she hugged him. He would stop wanting to go to her when he knew James was elsewhere.

If he had her, she wouldn’t visit him in his dreams again and again. He knew – because she couldn’t live up to the fantasy. He wouldn’t obsess about her if he knew for sure her eyes couldn’t burn with ethereal fire, lust blazing hotter than anger and teasing wickedness making them dance. Her soft hair wouldn’t spill over his hands like silk, her lips wouldn’t part as his mouth moved over skin that wasn’t flawless, nor would she gasp when he bit lightly at the soft shell of her ear. Her body wouldn’t lift against his in urgent desire, her supple legs wouldn’t curl around his hips and draw him close. She wouldn’t be so perfectly hot, wet, tight, and she wouldn’t moan in his ear as he sunk into her. She wouldn’t whisper demands to him, playful threats that would lose their insincerity as he thrust into her as a careful, slow rhythm. Her hands wouldn’t claw at his back and she wouldn’t toss her head, half-mad from needing him to take her hard. Her breasts defiantly wouldn’t quiver and lift when he found just the right angle. When he start speeding up, she wouldn’t – wouldn’t! – bite down on her lip, to stifle the sounds, or close her eyes to drown in the sensation. Her body wouldn’t flutter as he dreamed around him as she came to climax. She wouldn’t give a feral cry as she found completion, her nails biting all the deeper.

For certainty, she would never _ever_ open her eyes, lift her head and kiss him as he found his own ending.

He knew she wouldn’t do any of it. But oh, he wanted to find out for sure.﻿


End file.
